


Stay With Me

by zleznjiyh



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Angst, Comfort, F/F, Hurt, Panic Attacks, Suicidal Thoughts, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-16
Updated: 2013-10-16
Packaged: 2017-12-29 14:34:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1006540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zleznjiyh/pseuds/zleznjiyh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They fall apart after Hoyt's death. They fall together after Hoyt's death.<br/>Oneshot, song fic based on The Ark - Stay With Me.<br/>TW: Talk of suicide, panic attacks. Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay With Me

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I found this lying on my Google Drive, forgotten.  
> Unbeta’d as usual.
> 
> Disclaimer: Not mine, show runners make them canon etc.  
> /zlez

I still can’t believe we made it out of that infirmary alive. I was sure death was upon us. I was sure my last act would’ve been protecting Maura. I guess I just snapped when I saw what that monster was doing to her. This was never meant to be her burden. My burden was never meant to be shared with anyone, least of all her. Let’s just say I feel like shit.  Sure, the party took my mind off of the days events but when everyone left I felt the darkness creep back. It was weighing my mind down as it was undoubtedly sitting like a boulder in Maura’s mind. She stays and helps clean the horse mess my mother left. I want to apologize, I want to apologize, I want to tell her that the dreams go away after a while, I want to tell her that the smell will only linger for a day or two. The smell of him, the stench he emitted sits in my nostrils still, mockingly and constantly reminding me of what could have been.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly when we have finished the last of the horses. I hear her sigh deeply, no doubt getting ready to lecture me on coping with trauma but it never comes. Instead she walks up to me and puts her arms carefully around me, this hug very different from the one I gave her when I got my gift. This hug is heavy and I curse internally, I failed her. I made her hurt and it is hurting me, it is making me ache. I hold her tightly against me.

“Stay with me,” I urge her, my voice begging her. She nods against my chest, tears rolling down her cheeks silently. I want to will her pain away but my rational part knows that’s impossible. It will take time. We untangle after her breathing evens out and I gesture toward the bedroom. After she is done in the bathroom I do my routine quickly and get under the sheets. I turn so I am lying on my side, facing her. She’s in one of my BPD t-shirts and boy shorts, her usual attire when she sleeps over. Our eyes meet and her tears start coming again. I tentatively reach over to take her hand, I need to feel her skin against mine no matter how minute. I start telling her how I contemplated suicide after Hoyt all but destroyed my hands and broke my spirit. I tell her how much of a living hell rehab was and how I just wanted it all to end. But I came back, better and stronger than before, more determined than ever to be alive until he died. I tell her how I felt after plunging the scalpel into his chest. I felt relief, I felt elation, I felt more alive than ever. I also felt sad and angry. Over him, for her, most of all for her. This was never meant to be her burden. I tell her this. She asks if I still feel like committing suicide now that he’s dead.

“No,” is my short answer. I look her squarely in the eyes and repeat my answer, as much for her as for me. She asks me to elaborate. I simply tell her I still have purpose in life. She nods again, just as small as the nod against my chest before, affirming that she understands even though I wish she didn’t. As sleep overtakes us our hands still clasped together, a tether, a connection that is unbroken until morning. After the ordeal yesterday Cavanaugh saw fit to give us the day, even the weekend off. We could probably take more time off but the weekend will have to suffice for now. I sleep surprisingly well considering, I ask Maura how she slept and she gives me a lopsided smile for an answer.

After breakfast and quick showers I ask Maura what her plans are for this unexpected free weekend. She shrugs and looks at me solemnly, her facial features sad. My heart  tuggs violently as all I want is to see her smile her beautiful smile for me again. _Beautiful? Where did that come from?_ I feel myself blush slightly and under any normal circumstances Maura would have noticed and spouted out a fact relating to blushing but she had been eerily quiet since the end of the party last night. I am scared, scared that what I’d told her during the cover of night had warped her perception of me. I am afraid my reveal left me an empty shell, see-through human with nothing more to offer. My purpose was to be alive long enough to see Hoyt dead, what would I say if  she asks me about my newfound purpose? I feel her eyes on me during my internal debating. Meet her gaze and quirk my left eyebrow in question. She opens her mouth to say something but nothing comes out, her questions stuck in her throat. Her patched up throat. I move to the bathroom go get some disinfectant and fresh gauze. I know she hasn’t changed it after her shower because it is still soaking wet. Showing her the items I retrieved I tell her to sit on the barstool I have between the kitchen area and the living room. She sits down and begins to peel the old gauze off until I stop her.

“Let me do it, please.” I tell her quietly and she concedes. I make quick work of cleaning and covering the healing line with clean gauze. A small thank you escapes from her lips and I give her another heavy hug filled with emotions unspoken. Emotions I don’t understand. I suggest she go home and get properly dressed as I have nothing other than suits and sweatpants to offer.

“Stay with me,” she says and my heart aches. I pack an overnight bag and make sure to lock the door properly when we leave. The car ride over to Beacon Hill is silent, the silence permeating the air with quiet thickness. I need to get her to talk, I need to hear her sweet voice again. _Sweet voice? Again with the inappropriate word choices Rizzoli._ But I do need to get her to talk about the events. Maybe she is still feeling the effects of the taser. I driver on autopilot having taken the same route many times before and sure enough we make it to Maura’s house safely and soundly, well, at least safely, we are most definitely not healed enough yet to be sound. Maura unlocks the door and we enter, the living room seemingly spotless as ever. Shuffling noises interrupt my casual sweep and I instinctively reach for my gun. I left my gun at the precinct at Cavanaugh’s order. Before I go into full blown panic I recognize the shuffling as Bass the turtle walking around. What would’ve happened if it had been an actual intruder and I couldn't protect Maura? My chest starts to constrict at the thought of this and I fall to my knees. Maura turns around at the thud my knees make when they reach the floor and she instantly kneels down in front of me. My eyes frantic, trying to breathe deeply but only managing quick, shallow breaths, my eyes try to tell her I can’t handle this without her. She takes my hands and unclenches the tight fists I have formed them into, holding them delicately while telling me to breathe, focus on inhaling. Nearly five minutes pass before I regain control of my breathing, Maura with me every step of the way. A panic attack, she diagnoses, wondering what might have triggered it. I tell her quietly that she was the reason for it. A hurt look flash before my eyes before she schools her features to the passive expression she has been wearing all day. I open my mouth to explain but she moves, muttering about kale and salad for Bass. I get up and block her path to the fridge. I tell her, stumbling on every other word how I felt when I realized I couldn’t protect her fully if real danger were to occur in her home. Maura’s facial features soften as she envelops me in a hug. This hug isn’t heavy but still filled with emotion. Emotion I can’t seem to decipher, but it’s warm and comforting.

“Stay with me,” I say as she successfully feeds Bass. She looks at me and I feel like we’re still hugging.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the weekend passes by uneventfully, no panic attacks or meltdowns, which feels good. We are on our way back to work when the NPR radio host starts talking in detail about Hoyt and his victims. This time it’s Maura that freaks out. Thankfully we just arrived to the parking garage enabling me to cut the engine and radio with it, giving Maura my full attention. We still haven’t talked about it which is worrying me slightly, especially now when I can’t seem to get through to her. She calms down faster than I did but I still hold onto her hands as she held onto me. She tells me how she was transported back to the infirmary and could feel his breath upon her cheek. It wasn’t the ideal place to talk but at least she was talking. She continues with how terrified she felt, the helplessness that enveloped her being and the fear for her life. Her fear for my life, her fear for leaving things unsaid, acts not acted upon. I feel my heart speed up involuntarily as she describes every single feeling and thought going through her mind and body, most of them of which I felt and feel myself. Everything is spilling out of her and I am having a hard time following. I am still anchoring her, her hands in mine, ever present. I release one hand and take out my phone. I call Cavanaugh and tell him that Dr. Isles isn’t feeling very well and if the offer of the rest of the week off still stands... I barely end the sentence when he gruffly agrees.   
  
“Especially if the doc isn’t feeling up to it.” I thank him and hang up. Maura is staring at me with questions swirling in her entrancing eyes. _Rizzoli, stop it with the superlatives, I know they apply to Maura but this is not the time._ I still and silently ask myself, when is the time? I drive  back to Maura’s house, my place being closer but Maura actually has food in her house. Our hands still connected, only to separate when we get out of the car. The comfort provided in such a simple gesture is indefinite and most of all needed at the moment. Maura is the only thing keeping me connected to the conscious realm right now. All of her her words in describing her feelings in the infirmary have slowly been seeping into my brain and the full impact of the danger and pain I caused her comes crashing.

“I'm so sorry I put you in danger Maura.” Large tears are rolling down my cheeks and my breathing has turned uneven and erratic. As soon as we are inside of the house Maura’s arms are around my neck, pulling me toward her chest. We hold the position for a beat until Maura moves and leads me to her comfy sofa. She gently sits me down, sitting down next to me as she hugs me again. She quietly tells me that her greatest fear, since I shot Marino through myself, is losing me forever. She tells me that the warmth and comfort I provide her is unmatched elsewhere, she tells me that when I am not with her she feels hollow. She tells me that she understood the emotions the other couples tortured by Hoyt felt. She tells me that the despair for a loved one is unmatched torment. I cry harder at her words having known what the husbands of all Hoyt’s victims felt, the helplessness of seeing their partner... _But Maura is not my partner, is she? Then why did Hoyt include her in my torture?_ To hurt me more, too hurt me the most. He hit me where I would suffer the most I thought as I cried even harder, holding onto Maura as if she were my life-jacket and I was drowning in the Atlantic ocean. Maura is my one and only I thought holding on, if possible, even tighter. How stupid am I if Hoyt saw it but not me? Who else knows, who else has seen it? Is this why there are rumours flying around the precinct? It this why I’ve always been so comfortable around her? Does she know? How long? At this time my mind is racing frantically, my tears subside and I gingerly disentangle myself from Maura, our hands still clasped together as the only body parts touching.

“Why did Hoyt take you to complete his sick fantasy, why did he take you Maura, what did the sick bastard see, what did he see that I am only now understanding?!” I start venting with a frustrated edge. Maura shakes her head a little sadly, she brings up my hand to her mouth and kisses them tenderly. I feel the warmth from where her lips just were, spreading throughout my hand and up my arm. It eventually reaches my heart and I feel... I feel right.  So right it scares me. We haven’t been apart for days and I need to get some distance before things spiral out of control. They always do, no matter how hard I try. I tell her I need to collect my thoughts. Alone. I nearly miss the dejected look on her face as I let go of her hand, my hand goes cold and I fight the urge to grasp her warm palm again. I grab my coat as I head out.

The cold will do me good I think over and over like a chant. I set a brisk pace in the only directions I see: away from Maura’s house. I need to stop her hurting and in my mind that can only be achieved without me. I can’t be that weight on her mind, I’ll just drag her down.

 

* * *

 

I have been out for hours. It’s getting dark and the city glitters like a billion gems in the cold air. I don’t know how I got here. I remember leaving Maura’s to think and then... nothing. I’m on top of a hill, the city below my feet. I usually come here during difficult cases to clear my mind and find perspective. Nobody knows of this place except- except Maura. I told her once a couple of years ago. She got worried when she couldn’t get a hold of me and I told her the truth. I could’ve easily have lied but I didn’t. I didn’t want to hurt or worry her then and I don’t want to hurt and worry her now. Except I have hurt her and she’s probably worried out of her mind. I check my jean pocket for my phone, nothing. My belt on the right side, nothing. Coat pockets, empty. Damn, I left it on the kitchen island. At this point I am worrying myself. I start pacing and I run my hands through my hair in an effort to think of something but I am cold and hungry. I hear footsteps in the gravel so I turn around. She keeps walking calmly until she is in front of me. She hands me a Granola bar and I open it, hungrily taking a big bite out of it. I see her clearly now, getting my blood sugar levels up helps me with the thinking. And seeing. I tell her that she remembers. She tells me she has never forgotten. I ask her how long she’s been up there. She doesn’t answer but merely takes my hand and leads me to the car. Well in the car she turns to me and explaines that she basically followed me around town to make sure  I was alright. She tells me she has been observing me for nearly 3 hours. She knew I needed to snap out of my state before approaching me. She waited for me. But why? Can’t she see I will make her sink? Can’t she see that being around me will destroy her as I slowly destroy myself?

“I can see you thinking you know,” she says with a smirk playing on her lips. Her full and pink lips. I am distracting myself again with thoughts of her. I nod and ask her to drive. I tell her I will talk once I am not frozen solid. Her melodic laugh rings out at my hyperbolizing. I am content. As soon as we arrive on her street I am able to feel all my extremities again. Well inside the house I pick up my phone and see no missed calls. Good, Ma isn’t trying to come to my rescue after everything. Maura starts making soup to warm me down to my soul and I graciously accept the bowl of steaming hot soup when she is done. After I’ve cleaned the bowl I look up and see Maura anxiously stare at me, her eyes begging me to talk. I start off tentatively with an apology for leaving so abruptly, she just waves it off as if it didn’t hurt her at all when I know better. I  tell her that if whatever is going on between us turns serious I will only disappoint. She knows how damaged I am. She knows what I have to offer, how little I have left of me. I tell her that if I give her the rest of me... If it were ever to end I would be left with nothing and I wouldn't be able to handle it. I tell her this status quo keeps me floating, on an even keel, unable to sink. I tell her that she know me so deeply, so utterly and completely that not knowing it ever would damage me beyond repair. I tell her I have know pain and suffering, but nothing would compare to losing her. I am oddly calm after these revelations, no tears or angst creeping up on me, a serenity I’ve rarely, if ever, experienced. She has kept calm throughout my rambling only moving to take my hands in hers. She pulls them up and kisses each palm as she did earlier today and I feel the warmth spread yet again. She is getting ready to speak and I brace myself for the inevitable downfall. Instead she just sighs deeply as she lets go of my hands and puts hers around my face, cupping it as if to... The sensation is sparkly, it’s light, it’s fluttery, it’s heavy and its is completely wonderful.

“For a detective that trusts her intestines you surely don’t listen to them outside of work.” Her statement is clear and it makes me blush even harder than the kiss. She starts relaying the tens and tens of thousands of reasons why Hoyt chose her as my partner. After rattling of a list she ends it with saying that it is because of the unconditional love she has for me. I move forward and do the most natural thing I’ve been suppressing for years and kiss her again. How have I been so selfish to deprive Maura of this for years? I feel the self-doubt set in again but Maura keeps it at bay for me with her touches on my body, her hands exploring. I slow us down, the room spinning and my knees weak, I slow us down until the only contact our lips are making are small small sporadic nibbles, trying to capture the bottom lip. I slow us down because it is all going so fast  yet it has been going so painfully slow for the past few years. I suggest going to bed, to sleep, I clarify at Maura’s quirking eyebrow. I am exhausted after the long walk and conversation that followed. I turn to the spare bedroom but Maura stops me.

“Stay with me tonight? No ‘monkey business’  I promise.” She smiles shyly and I follow her to her bedroom. Her bed is more comfortable anyway.  
  


* * *

  
A month has passed since that fateful day at the prison infirmary. A month where we have done almost everything together. I have spent all of two nights in my condo, one of which I left halfway through for Maura’s house, unable to sleep without her. The other one I rarely slept at all as I was working a case.  You might see it as playing catch-up or overly neediness but we just feel good in each other’s company. We had taken each other out on dates and getting to know each other even more than before. Everything was coming up Jane for once. I was happy. I am happy. But then came the hearing about what had happened the day Hoyt attacked us. It was just a formality as all the paperwork didn’t cover everything. Maura and I talked about the hearing plenty of times but nothing could prepare me for what actually happened.

As I got cleared to go through the security checkpoint by the guard, I didn’t move. I waited patiently for the guard to clear Maura, I wanted us to walk together through these halls again, with her hand in mine.I didn’t care what the others thought, this was a place of deep trauma for the both of us, I need to feel the reassuring skin. We pass the infirmary on our way to the small conference room. The prison had insisted on holding the hearing on their turf, afraid of us suing for whatever, they wanted to show hospitality and how well the prison is actually run. The warden is waiting for us and we take our seats. The questions start coming as we rehearsed, I answer them all mechanically, automatically, just like I had done when talking to Maura. I hear Maura start to answer her questions but I can’t hear her words, I just hear her sweet voice and my mind goes back a month. All I hear is her pleading for her life, small whimpers and the scream as she is tasered. I try to steady my breathing as I feel the panic of the infirmary creep up once again. I concentrate on how calm Maura sounds, how warm her palm feels against mine. Toward the end the warden asks if I am alright. I nod and ask for how much longer we will be. Maura gives me a squeeze and I just know it’s almost over, just a few more questions. Unable to speak again Maura answers for me, quickly and the wardens asks me if what Maura said is true. I nod again and we are finally free to go on our way. I walk briskly, I can’t wait to get outside and leave this place. Leave it and close the door on my most horrible chapter to date. I turn to Maura as we finally make it outside and I look at her, really see her. The best thing in my life. My reason for going on when life seems to implode on itself. Maura lets out a sigh of relief, looking at me proudly. I lean over and kiss her sweetly on the cheek, trying to convey a silent thanks for not letting me freak out in the conference room.

“I got you Jane.” She says it with such conviction I start tearing up. I take her hand again and tell her to get us home. Home is with Maura but in this instance I mean at Maura’s. I might as well move in, make it official. I have a key, I have a drawer, I have my electric toothbrush in her, our, bathroom. Everyone basically knows even though we haven’t officially told them. They don’t mind, Maura is family, now more so than ever. But I still have my doubts. Not about her, never about her, I am the doubt. I know I love her even though we haven’t done the deed yet. Sweet Maura waiting patiently for me to let go of my demons. The problem is that I am not holding the demons, they have a hold of me. I’ve been seeing a shrink, talking about my issues, all from childhood issues to my mother to Hoyt to Maura. We had a breakthrough last session, I can see myself clearly now. I am afraid of being lonely, I am afraid the pain I’ve suffered has been  justified. The shrink says there are underlying issues stemming from my sexuality. I scoffed at her, what does a shrink know about underlying sexual issues? I caught myself during that session with that thought. She did know about it, she was the shrink and I was the patient. My sexuality has always been a fight for me. I came to terms early in my teenage years but I never acted on them. I couldn’t do that to Ma and Pop. I still feel resistance but the fortified wall is crumbling. I see how much Ma loves Maura and I can’t help to think she doesn’t care as long as I am happy. I guess I should call her. The car ride has yet again been silent, my inner dialogue distracting me, good think Maura is driving. Well inside the house Maura gives me a penny, tilting her head.

“I’ve been living inside my head for so long I can’t seem to remember what’s real and what’s just in my head. Can you show me what’s real tonight?” Understanding flashes in Maura’s eyes and she blushes. She asks me if I’m sure, I nod.

_And no one has ever reached so deep into me,_   
  
_no one has taken me so high above._

 

fin.


End file.
